Chapter Text
The fall colors finally faded into the drab blues and grays of winter. Life went on as usual. Guren got up, ate breakfast, went to work, tolerated Shinya, fought with Kureto, somehow found the time to complete his work, went to dinner with Yuu, and crashed into his bed sometime around twelve, only to start the whole routine again the next day. This year was seemingly no different from the last, except…
Yuu. The kid had become a fixture in Guren’s life almost overnight. They’d only started this routine of eating dinner together and hanging out on weekends a month ago, and yet it felt like it’d been years. The ease with which Yuu forged a place for himself in Guren’s life almost frightened the man. The kid gave warmth and color to a life Guren hadn’t realized was so monotone.
Slam!
Guren was dragged from his thoughts as Shinya waltzed into his office with Christmas decorations in hand.
Guren groaned. “Get that shit out of my office. Now.”
Shinya just smiled playfully, as he dropped the tinsel and other miscellaneous items on Guren’s desk. “Aww, come on, Scrooge. We can’t be doom and gloom all year!”
Guren shoved the items off his desk, an expression of disgust settling on his face. “Yes, I can.”
Shinya pouted at Guren, his periwinkle blue eyes not even dimming slightly at Guren’s mood. “Guren, don’t be like this. It’s already December, and everyone else is decorating for the holiday. You should get in on the merriment. You’re too young to be this grumpy.”
Guren wasn’t following Shinya’s logic. “What does age have to do with grumpiness?”
“Anyway,” Shinya continued, ignoring Guren’s question. “We’re having the office Christmas party next week, and you’ve been charged with bringing cookies. So, make sure you bake some for next Friday.” Shinya gave Guren a close-eyed smile, the kind that said Guren didn’t have a choice in the matter.
Guren glared at the white-haired man. “Do I look like fucking Betty Crocker?”
“Well,” Shinya began.
Guren cut him off. “No, don’t answer that. Alright.” Guren ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m not baking, but I’ll pick up some cookies from the store, alright? But I’m not staying for the blasted party. Got that, Shinya?”
“What? If you provide food, you’re almost obligated to stay!” Shinya replied in mock shock.
Not for the first time, and likely not for the last, Guren wondered why he was friends with the horribly annoying man. But he’d known him long enough to know that he probably wasn’t going to win this fight. Guren sighed. “Alright, I’ll stay for the party.”
Shinya smiled. “Good. Then you can help me set up the decorations, starting with your office.” Shinya picked up the christmas decorations that were spilling onto the floor like gold-and-silver vomit, and plopped them back on Guren’s desk, before prancing out of the office. “See you later, Guren-chan!” He waved, before closing the door in his wake and narrowly avoiding the stapler Guren had thrown at him.
“So, Shinya’s forcing you to go as well?” Yuu said, picking mindlessly at his bowl of noodles with his chopsticks.
It was nine O’clock at night, and Yuu had dragged Guren to a restaurant a couple blocks from their office building that supposedly served the best hot chocolate this side of the equator or something. Guren could relent it wasn’t bad, but he questioned Yuu’s decision to wash it all down with spicy ramen. The kid must of had a stomach of steel. Either that, or he was going to be sick any second. Guren felt a little queasy himself at the thought, and resolved that if that happened, he wasn’t cleaning it up.
They’d been sitting in the restaurant for a half hour now, and had gotten around to talking about the Christmas party. Or as Guren liked to refer to it, “That festive pain in the ass.”
“Shinya feels it’s his duty in life to get me to be more socially engaged or some shit like that,” Guren bit out.
Yuu snorted at that, and then tried to cover it up with a cough once he noticed Guren was glaring at him.
“Anyway, and he expects me to bring cookies.” Guren looked at his empty cup, considered ordering another hot chocolate, thought better of it, and decided on a coffee, black. Guren motioned to a nearby waiter to fill his order.
Yuu slurped down some more noodles, and replied. “Ah, Shinya wants me to bring a cake. A fruit cake, I think?”
“Buy something else. Nobody ever eats that shit.”
Yuu mouthed the words “buy something”, and then said, “Actually, I was thinking of baking it.”
Guren choked on his coffee.
Yuu looked at him, worried. “Are you alright?”
Guren waved his hand at the brat. “Fine. Fine. Anyway,” he cleared his throat. “Brat, I probably shouldn’t be asking this,” namely because I already know the answer, he thought derisively, “but have you ever actually, baked a cake before?”
“No,” Yuu answered brightly.
Figured.
“Well, maybe you shouldn’t start now, brat,” Guren suggested, gingerly taking another sip of his coffee.
Yuu pouted at Guren.
“And don’t pout at me, brat,” Guren sighed. “It’s just a suggestion. Take it,” if you know what’s good for you, “or leave it.”
Yuu bit his lip and looked to the side. “Well, actually, I was kind of hoping you’d help me.”
Guren felt the desperate need to clean out his ears. Surely he couldn’t have heard that correctly. Guren rubbed his forehead. “Brat, what makes you think I know how to bake?”
“Well, you know a lot of things, and you have a kitchen,” Yuu answered brightly.
Guren took a long sip of his coffee, and then set it down on the table. “I see. So, what you’re really saying is that you need access to a kitchen, and you don’t want to use yours in case something goes wrong.”
Guren leveled his gaze at Yuu, who responded by cocking his head to the side, and saying, “Yeah, basically.”
Guren nearly had to stop his jaw from dropping open in shock. The audacity of this kid…
“However,” Yuu raised a finger. “You’re wrong on one thing there.”
“What?”
“What makes you think I even have a kitchen to begin with?” Yuu stated triumphantly, folding his arms across his chest.
This goddamn idiot. Like that’s something to be proud of. At least Guren now had the answer as to why the kid ate out so much. But that didn’t change the fact that Guren was not a baker, and he was not going to sacrifice his precious kitchen for some kid’s baking experiment and some banal office christmas party. No, not Guren. It didn’t matter how much the brat begged or pleaded or used the puppy dog eyes, Guren was going to remain firm. Because if there was one thing Guren Ichinose was not, it was a push over.
“So what exactly do we need, brat?” It was the day before the christmas party, and Guren and Yuu were at the grocery store picking up baking supplies. Guren hated shopping in general, but he especially hated it during the holidays. Why did every store think that it had to play festive music 24/7 during the month of December? No amount of festive music, fairy lights, and tinsel was going to disguise the sterilized white walls and linoleum floors of the food store as some cozy winter cottage or something.
“Well, I think we need flour,” Yuu replied, eyes trained on his phone.
No kidding, thought Guren. He hoped baking a cake and some cookies wouldn’t take the whole night. He may have been sacrificing some of his paycheck on this christmas party, but he certainly wasn’t sacrificing his sleep.
“And we’ll need baking powder, and sprinkles,” Yuu continued listing.
“Sprinkles? What do we need sprinkles for?”
“Well, what kind of cookies don’t have sprinkles?” Yuu replied matter-of-factly.
Guren side-eyed the brat. “Lots. Chocolate chip, for one.”
“Well, we’re not making chocolate chip, and the recipe says sprinkles, so sprinkles it is!” Yuu said definitively.
“I doubt it, but whatever, brat. Let’s just get your sprinkles and the rest of this shit and go home. I actually want to sleep tonight.”
There was a giggle from behind Guren. He turned his head, glaring at whoever was making the annoying noise, only to find two women with three kids. The woman who had been giggling (a thin woman wearing a puffy, red parka) stopped, and smiled at Guren. “Sorry for laughing, it’s just nice to see brothers who have such a good relationship. I hope my sons are close as you two when they get older.”
Brothers? Guren mouthed soundlessly. He and Yuu? Guren was about ready to set the woman straight, but the voice of Shinya entered his head, “Now, Guren, play nice. Do you always have to be so grumpy?” Damn it. Now even his own head wasn’t safe from the white-haired menace. Guren sighed, and then attempted his best smile. “No problem. Only, for your sake, I hope your kids turn out smarter than this brat,” Guren said, motioning to Yuu.
Yuu glared at Guren. “Yeah? Well, I hope they don’t grow up to be as bitter as you, old man.”
Guren stared at Yuu, and then started aggressively rubbing his head. “Say that again, brat?”
“N-not the hair!” Yuu shouted, batting at Guren’s hand.
The women laughed and shook their heads. “See you around, you two!” The woman in the red parka said, before leading her kids (who were more invested in stocking the shopping cart with items that their mother probably didn’t approve of, than the two men) down the aisle, her friend in tow.
Guren stopped his assault on Yuu’s head. “Alright, kid. Playtime is over.”
“Playtime?!” Yuu gasped, patting down his hair. “Wha-that was, I-” Yuu’s speech dwindled away to frustrated groans.
Guren smiled to himself. The kid was a handful, but he provided a great deal of amusement.
He was quite young, wonderfully handsome, extremely agreeable, and, to crown the whole, he meant to be at the next assembly with a large party. Nothing could be more delightful! To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.
“If I can but see one of my daughters happily settled at Netherfield,” said Mrs. Bennet to her husband, “and all the others equally well married, I shall have nothing to wish for.”
Guren squinted at the text on the page. He wasn’t sure what Sayuri saw in Pride and Prejudice. He was beginning to think he’d have to return the book to her unread. The motherly face of his childhood friend, lips frowning in disappointment, flashed through his mind… maybe he’d give it another try.
“Um, Guren?”
“Yeah?” Guren answered, turning the page.
“Are cakes, supposed to be, well, so flat?” Yuu called from the kitchen.
Guren turned around from where he was sitting on the couch. Yuu was holding up what appeared to be a very thick pancake.
“No. But it’s late, so that’s what they’re getting. Just slather some icing and sprinkles on it and it’ll be fine.”
Guren heard a grumble, a huff, and then silence. Guess the brat accepted it. Guren sighed, and decided to look at his phone to see what time it was. The cookies took forever, but the second batch was at least somewhat edible. And the cake, well, Guren could care less at this point. He just wanted to go to bed. It had to be, what, 10 O’clock? Guren looked at his lockscreen, shut his eyes, and then opened them again. He couldn’t be reading that right. “Hey, Yuu? You take the train, right?”
“Yeah?” Yuu called back from the kitchen.
“The trains stop at, what, 1 O’clock?”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, I should probably get going soon. Maybe I can just take the icing with me and finish this at home?”
Guren could feel a heachache coming on. The numbers glaring back at him from his lockscreen read 1:45. It was too late for the train. Guren quickly sorted through his options. He could drive the brat home, and risk falling asleep at the wheel. He could call a cab, which meant spending more money (and it wasn’t like taxis were cheap) and it’d probably be a half-hour wait for it to arrive. Actually, with Christmas just around the corner, it might take longer. Cabs were at a premium during the holiday season. Or he could let the brat stay the night, and take the train home in the morning.
Self-preservation ruled out option one, and his wallet cringed at option two. But option three wasn’t exactly a great alternative. Guren hemmed and hawed, but couldn’t come up with any other solutions. The brat was going to have to stay the night.
“Hey, brat,” Guren called out.
“Yeah?” Yuu walked over, pulling off the pink, hello kitty apron he’d been wearing; an atrocious gift Guren got from Shinya for his birthday.
“It’s nearly two in the morning, the trains have already stopped. You’re gonna have to stay the night. Finish up the cake, and you can sleep on the couch. I’ll get you a pillow and a blanket, alright?”
Yuu’s eyes widened at that. He nodded his head, before rushing back to the kitchen.
Guren placed Pride and Prejudice on the side table, and groaned as he got up to search through his dressers for sheets and a blanket.
Guren poked half-heartedly at a piece of Christmas cake, surreptitiously eyeing the purple-haired midget from marketing, Shinoa, trying to shove reindeer antlers on a protesting Mitsuba from accounting. His eyes wandered to Yuu, who was scarfing down as much food as humanly possible. The brat looked messier today than usual, and somewhat dwarfed by his suit, the jacket sleeves of which kept slipping over his hands. Guren sighed at the ensemble, wishing he’d set his alarm last night, and had been able to kick the kid out of the apartment earlier, or at least had time to drive to the brat’s place. Anything, just so the brat wasn’t standing there in Guren’s suit because he didn’t have any clothes other than what he wore yesterday.
Earlier, when Guren and Yuu stumbled into work ten minutes late, Guren did everything in his power to slink to his office without being noticed. To no avail. No, the white-haired menace had to see he and Yuu come into the office together, overhear Yuu thanking Guren for his hospitality last night, and for driving him to work today. All while Yuu was clearly wearing Guren’s clothes.
Shinya said nothing to Guren about it. He didn’t have to. That knowing smirk was acknowledgement enough. Guren stabbed his cake with more ferocity at the thought.
“Even if it isn’t the best cake I’ve eaten, I don’t think it deserves to be executed, Guren-chan.”
Guren looked up from the crumbled remains of his cake. “Shinya.”
The white-haired man smiled at him, and waved. “How are you? Enjoying the party?”
Guren grumbled noncommittally.
Shinya laughed lightly. “Well, you showed up, at least. I was wondering if you were going to.”
Guren side-eyed Shinya. “I always keep my promises, and anyway, if you didn’t think I’d show, why’d you ask?” And make me go through all of that baking mishegas, Guren thought sardonically.
“Every other year, you’ve always managed to make some excuse to avoid this,” Shinya said, motioning at the party-goers, the tables resplendent with various treats laid out on plastic trays, and paper plates and cups left haphazardly on every available surface.
“Well, I really wasn’t missing much, was I?” Guren said, surveying the “party.”
Shinya playfully slapped Guren’s arm at that. “Anyway, as I was saying, you always manage to avoid it. All of it. And yet this year, you’re actually coming out of your man-cave and joining the world of the living!”
“Man-cave?” Guren stared at Shinya like the white-haired man had lost his mind. “Do you mean my apartment?”
Shinya didn’t dignify Guren with an answer to that, and instead mused, “Hmm. I wonder at the cause of your newfound socialness?” His eyes drifted over to Yuu, who was yelling at Shinoa because she’d knocked into him and caused him to drop his cake.
Guren followed Shinya’s gaze, and snorted. “Kids. And don’t act like this wasn’t all part of your plan, Shinya.”
“Eh?”
“Don’t act all innocent. You sent Yuu over when I was sick, because you’ve watched too many dramas, and thought a young brat could bring some energy into a bitter, old man’s life.”
“Ah, so you admit you’re bitter,” Shinya said playfully.
Guren glared at him.
“And also, you shouldn’t call yourself an old man. Afterall, we’re the same age,” Shinya lightly chastised.
Maybe Guren wasn’t that old physically, but he made up for it in weariness. Some people were young at heart; Guren’s heart beat for no other reason than to keep his body alive.
“Anyway, Goshi’s having a party tomorrow. All of the gang’s going to be there and you are invited,” Shinya said, patting Guren on the back.
Guren snorted. “You mean ‘conscripted.’”
“No, I mean invited. But I’ll drag you there if I have to.” Shinya smiled a steely smile at Guren. A smile Guren knew better than to mess with.
But it didn’t stop him from repeating in his mind, ‘Conscripted.’
Guren watched the white cloud of his breath dissipate into the night air. There was a stillness to the cemetery that seemed almost ethereal. He’d spent the day catching up with his old friends (as per Shinya’s conscription). Guren smiled at the thought of Sayuri, Shigure, Goshi, and Mito. And sighed. They’d all moved on with their lives. Goshi had started dating Mito, which everybody was somewhat surprised about, but it seemed to be going well, even with Mito’s fiery temperament and Goshi’s perverted nature. Sayuri was enjoying her teaching job, and chattered on endlessly about her students and their achievements. Shigure didn’t talk much, but Guren knew that her work was going well and that she’d recently taken up painting lessons. And Shinya… was Shinya. Even though Guren had spent the day with them, it didn’t really feel real. It hadn’t felt like he was with them at all; viewing them all as if from behind some veil.
Some barrier separated Guren from his closest friends, a barrier that extended to all facets of his life, leaving him a ghost amongst the living. Guren’s friends had moved on, their eyes firmly directed to the future, while Guren looked back, his eyes fixed on a past he could do nothing about.
Guren surveyed the gravestone at his feet. There was a small bouquet of flowers laid at its’ base, partially covered with snow. Someone else had visited the grave recently. Guren could guess who; Shinoa was the only one from the family to ever do so. Even though Guren saw the girl at work everyday, they rarely talked about it. About her older sister. There really wasn’t much to say, other than “sorry.” And Shinoa had already accepted his empty words with a half-hearted shrug. You couldn’t have done anything. At the end of the day, it was Nii-san’s choice.
Right, it was Mahiru’s choice. Mahiru’s choice to kill herself. But it was her family that set it up. It was her family who made her think she’d never be free while she still lived. And it was Guren who wasn’t able to stop her; it was Guren who ignored the signs until it was too late.
Guren sighed heavily. It was the same conversation he had with himself every time he visited her grave, every time he thought of her; every memory of her was marred by guilt. It was a weight he had forced himself to carry, even though his suffering under the weight of it wouldn’t bring her back. Instead, Guren found himself in limbo: unable to grieve her loss and move on, and yet unable to end it all and join her. Guren was at an impasse, and so he simply existed. He knew this was no way to live, but until he could come to terms with her passing and his part in it, he figured it’d have to do.
Guren set down the bouquet of sunflowers he’d brought with him. They looked out of place against the white of the snow and the gray of the headstone. Guren smiled slightly recalling he and Mahiru’s first date; she’d handed him a sunflower, and smiled, saying he resembled it. Guren had smirked, saying, “Because I’m always following you around?” She’d laughed at that, her voice like bells.
Guren’s smile faded. Sunflowers always face the sun. Mahiru was his sun, and her light had gone out far too soon.
Guren finally arrived back at his apartment. Tomorrow may have been Christmas, but the most he was looking forward to doing was sleeping in. So imagine his surprise when he found someone waiting for him at his apartment door.
“Brat?”
Yuuichirou Hyakuya jumped, and stood up from where he’d been seated in front of Guren’s door. The kid’s hair was sticking up at odd angles and his cheeks were rosy from the cold. “H-hey, Guren,” Yuu said, waving a hand half-heartedly.
Guren raised an eyebrow. “What are you doing here, brat?”
“Um, well, you see, since tomorrow’s Christmas and all…” Yuu stuttered. “I-I got you a present!” Yuu finished, holding out a festive colored gift bag.
Guren was a bit surprised by that. He wasn’t sure whether he should be thankful or suspicious. Guren cautiously took the bag. “Thanks, brat.”
Yuu smiled triumphantly. They stood there awkwardly, neither of them moving. Guren wasn’t sure how to respond to this, and the kid wasn’t leaving. He supposed it was common courtesy to invite the brat in. Shinya would say it was. Guren wasn’t sure he wanted to listen to Shinya. Then again, what did he have to look forward to tonight? A bottle of sake and a trashy holiday film? Guren shook his head, and then said, “You wanna come in?”
If Yuu had a tail, it would have been wagging.
Guren side-stepped Yuu, and unlocked the door. “So what prompted this?” Guren said, as he opened the door and searched for the light switch. Guren found it, and the apartment was suddenly awash with warm, yellow light.
Yuu looked around, pulling off his coat and setting it on the coat rack by the door. “Well, I’d forgotten to give you your present yesterday, and I thought I’d drop it off today.”
Guren snorted. “Forgotten to give it to me, or forgotten to buy it?”
“Alright, buy. But I think you’ll like it,” Yuu said with full confidence.
“We’ll see brat. We’ll see.” Guren said, as he reached a hand into the gift bag and pulled out red tissue paper. At the bottom of the bag was something rectangular. “A DVD?” Guren mused, as he pulled it out of the bag. It was larger than most DVDs. Guren looked at the cover, and muttered, “Ryoma Den?” It was a historical drama. “Why’d you get me a taiga drama, brat?”
“Well, when I stayed here the other night, I noticed you had a few on your bookshelf and I thought maybe you’d like it?” Yuu said, scuffing his foot across the ground.
“Ah, those. They’re from my old man.”
“Oh.”
Guren’s father had watched them religiously when he was alive. Guren smiled, thinking of his father. He had insisted Guren watch them, and would give one to him every other year for his birthday. Guren hadn’t watched one in years. “Alright, brat. Sit down, let’s see what this one’s all about.”
“Eh? It’s OK if I stay?” Yuu asked, surprised.
“Well, why not. It’s not like I’m doing anything tomorrow. Are you?”
Yuu shook his head.
“Alright then.” Guren popped the first disk in the DVD player and turned on the TV. Yuu had wandered over to the kitchen.
“Should I bring some snacks over?” He called out.
“Sure. Why not?” Guren had food to spare. Anyway, he owed the brat something. It wasn’t like he’d picked him up a gift.
Guren sat down on the couch as the DVD loaded the first menu. Yuu came over a few minutes later, a bag of chips and two cans of Coke in hand.
“I thought popcorn would have been more appropriate,” Guren remarked.
Yuu scowled. “What are you talking about? There wasn’t any in the cabinet.”
“Well, you could go out and get some…”
Yuu pouted at Guren.
“Sorry, sorry. I’m just messing with you,” Guren said, and rubbed Yuu’s head.
Yuu slapped his hands away. “Again, don’t mess with my hair. I’m not five.”
Guren smirked at that, but said nothing, instead choosing to hit play on the remote control.
Two and a half episodes into the series, and Guren was remembering why he hadn’t watched one in a while. How many episodes was this series? Forty-eight? And each one forty-five minutes long, and densely packed. Yuu had started nodding off somewhere through episode two, and was now softly snoring, his body slumped against Guren’s side. Guren smiled at the ravenette.
Guren hadn’t felt this content or happy in a long time. Especially at Christmas. When the kid was around, the constant guilt Guren felt lifted a bit. The mistakes and regrets of his past no longer held him in a vice, his breathing eased, and his step felt lighter.
In other words, whenever he was with Yuu, Guren felt that somehow, someway, life was moving forward. And though he’d never admit it to Shinya, Guren was grateful for the white-haired man’s gift.